Street Witch
by Allisarte
Summary: A street witch. The world was surely coming to an end. Resolutely he sent a note to Number 6 Cheeseman street, asking for Briar Moss to appear at his Citadel as soon as possible.


**Street Witch**

_Chapter One_

"Where in the gods name did the wench go?" The captain of the guard screamed, this chit was getting on his nerves. Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted and the two guards he brought with him subtly stepped away. Purple rage contorted his once handsome face. His fists clenched into tight balls of bone and muscles at his sides. The countenance of the man bellowed anger and fury.

"That flipping pickpocket has disappeared with my purse again!" Lord Aleric screeched, his thin body was silhouetted against the wind and one of the guards had a fleeting vision of the man as a bird. He stifled his guffaw with a cough and leaned over to tell his fellow soldier who also snickered.

"For the third time this week." The first guard muttered. The third time that week and the seventh time that month, and the month wasn't nearly half over. "I'll bet she just likes to watch him dance, I bet she's watching us all now, laughing hysterically."

"Bernt! Something you'd like to share?" He asked the first guard, who quickly snapped to attention, and let his body go ridged.

"No sir." He answered resolutely, used to his commanding officers mood swings when they lost. The older man frowned and marched away, leaving Lord Aleric to his own demise, or to his own exasperation. It grated on commander Nasib's nerves, the fact that he couldn't catch this girl. That a _woman_ could elude him for months like this. Nasib had had it, he was going to seek Duke Verdis, even if the man had him killed, he was done chasing around a flipping street brat, it was past time he asked all of the mages he allowed to live in the temples to do something about her.

In the second story of a building on the end of weavers street a young woman was indeed laughing, perhaps not hysterically, but she was allowing herself a moment to submerge in the delicious hilarity caused by her actions. She was indeed picking on Lord Aleric, and she was picking on him because he always threw the biggest fits. Sometimes he would jump, most of the time he would yell, occasionally he threw or kicked things, it was all highly amusing. She shook her head while getting up from her sprawled place at the windowsill. She had work to do.

The green skirt she peeled off of her body was actually old draped she had nicked out of the rubbish bin. The shirt had come off of a washing line, the corset out of a shop and the shoes out of a leatherworkers shop. And the room was full of yet more clothes that she had nicked from various places. Sometimes she wondered why people worked.

Th_e guilt. The guilt my dear, you can pretend that its not here, but it is._ Sprita frowned and banished the thought from her mind. She would not think such thoughts today. When she thought those thoughts she was bound to wallow in them for several days, weeks even. And she did not have time for that this month.

Quickly she pulled on more acceptable clothes for a woman in her trade. First the loose black pants that billowed around her legs, allowing plenty of room for knives where pulled on. A jade green shirt went over her breast band and a gray corset on top of that. The corset was like no other, within it she had long ago sewn places for knives and the small, flat bottles that held specific potions she was able to brew perfectly. Long fingered hands covered in various scars quickly brushed over her body, checking to make sure that her knives were still in place.

Sprita stepped up to her looking glass, once of the few items she had actually purchased. The face that looked at her was not her own. At a slow pace her cheekbones sunk back into their normal place, prominent, but not to the point that they were remarkable. Green eyes settled back to gray, and curly blond hair turned back to wavy brown. Her nose shrunk back to it's place as almost too small instead of perfect. When she's finished she rubbed her hands over her face. Switching it always gave her a headache.

She allowed herself a few moments to lounge in bed and pity herself. _I hate this after feeling, it's like a hangover, only I've done nothing to earn it. Now if I had earned it, _that _would be acceptable. But then again I shouldn't really be whining, because what other thief on the street can change their appearance? No one. But here I am complaining about it. Shit, my head hurts…_

Lumbering to her feet Sprita swayed as she stood next to the bed. "Alright, I am up." She said with false confidence. "I am walking out the door now, because I am not dizzy." This mantra was repeated aloud as she swung out the window she called her door. The door had in fact, not been opened since the day Sprita began renting the apartment. The sole purpose of Doors was to slam in Sprita's face. They had been doing so all of her life. And so she resented them, with good reason. Doors had been closing on her since her sixth birthday, when the door of her home was closed by the noble it had been rented from. The door of the healer's temple closed when they told her that her parents were no longer there. The doors of several stores had closed after she made appeal after appeal for work. Yes, Sprita hated doors, with good reason.

Duke Verdis was not amused, and very amused. It seemed Commander Nasib was having trouble catching a girl. The same girl that the nobles continued to complain about. A street witch they called her. Like the Lady Sandrilene and her four friends, gifted with uncanny magic that she was using for evil instead of good. The Duke had thought it preposterous. A street witch, who would even imagine that? But then Sandry had returned home and he had asked her about it. His blue eyed niece had considered it for a moment and decided that it was entire possible. And now he was not so sure the idea was preposterous.

"Know this Nasib, I do not like being told how to run my own city. I especially do not appreciate being told so by a second rank officer. Ten lashes for your insolence. And because your story intrigues me, I will find someone to deal with it." He said with a nodd, his guards escorted the man out and Verdis sank back into the padded chair behind his desk. A _street witch_. The world was surely coming to an end.

Resolutely he sent a note to Number 6 Cheeseman street, asking for Briar Moss to appear at his Citadel as soon as possible.


End file.
